Guilt
by donnaann55
Summary: Bad boys need to be punished, right? This is a totally ridiculous crack one shot! Because I'm not happy with Blaine!


**Guilty**

Kurt wouldn't talk to him. He didn't answer his texts or emails. He ignored all of his pathetic pleas on Facebook. Kurt didn't acknowledge him, and without Kurt Blaine felt like he didn't exist. He was an empty shadow of the Blaine he had been with Kurt. God, he was an idiot! Why didn't he know this before, before he let skin control his actions, before he let touch cloud his mind.

Yes, he'd been lonely, and hurt that Kurt didn't seem to have time for him. He'd been jealous of the life Kurt was living without him. He'd felt forgotten, and neglected and let's not forget horny! Jacking off alone was just not the same. God! So not the same! It had felt like forever without Kurt's body, Kurt's touch, without his taste, and scent, and smile.

The thought that now, it might actually be forever, that Kurt would never forgive him, was killing Blaine. There had to be a way to make this better. He deserved to be punished for hurting Kurt like this, even more for hurting himself like this, for breaking what they had together. If Kurt would just talk to him, Blaine would accept any punishment. He'd do anything if Kurt would only forget about this.

The internet can be a dangerous place when you're hurting. Blaine typed in Guilt, and followed a labyrinth of links that dumped him out onto a page that promised redemption.

**Do you feel guilty?**

**Do you need to be punished?**

**I can help.**

Blaine started to cry. The words leapt off the page, and squeezed his heart. He clicked to the contact page, and sent

**I need help**.

The response was almost instantaneous.

**What did you do?**

Blaine didn't have to think about that.

**I hurt someone.**

And that's how Blaine found himself, taking an elevator up to the 8th floor of a downtown office building, the next day after school. He really, really shouldn't be doing this. He knew that.

He walked down the hallway, reading the numbers on the doors. He stopped in front of #812. A small plaque read, "Serenity". Blaine swallowed and turned the handle. The reception room was empty, but his entrance had set off a bell tone, and a man opened a door on his right. He crossed the room to Blaine, his hand extended. "Hi, I'm Richard. You're Blaine?"

Blaine nodded. He couldn't dig words out of his brain.

"Nice to meet you." Richard motioned to a brown leather love seat, and Blaine sat. "Would you like anything, coffee?"

"No, thanks." The words came out in a croak, and Blaine cleared his throat, his hands shaking.

Richard sat beside Blaine. "Why don't you tell me why you're here?" His eyes were kind, his face calm, and Blaine let the whole appalling story gush out; what he had done, how awful he felt.

Richard listened, he handed Blaine a Kleenex box, and listened. "I can't forgive you, only Kurt can do that. But I can help with the guilt. I can help you feel that you deserve another chance with Kurt. Would you like that?"

"More than anything." Blaine would do anything to stop these soul shriveling feelings of worthlessness and guilt.

"The only way to erase the guilt is to accept punishment."

"Punishment?" This guy couldn't mean what Blaine thought he did, right?

"Yes. Old school corporal punishment." Richard smiled. "The kind you should never use on a child. But I've found it very helpful with adults, adults who choose it." Richard held out a hand. "I'll need to see some ID."

Blaine fumbled for his wallet. Richard nodded and handed Blaine's driver's license back to him. "Eighteen, good." He stood up. "Take your time. Think about it. If you decide you want my help, just fill your credit card information in on this form." Richard put a printed form and a pen down on the couch beside Blaine. "I'll be in the other room." He held out his hand to Blaine. "If you decide it's not what you want, then it's been a pleasure meeting you Blaine." He turned and walked into a room off the reception area, closing the door behind him.

This was insane! Who did this? Blaine got up to leave. No way! His hand was on the doorknob, and he couldn't open the door. But what if this really worked? What if Richard could help with the guilt? Blaine was tired of feeling like a disgusting slime bag. He couldn't face another night of beating himself up, of drowning in guilt and remorse.

Richard didn't say anything when Blaine joined him. He helped Blaine out of his jacket, removed his bowtie, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "There, that should be more comfortable." He took Blaine's hand and walked him over to the bed. He sat, and reaching up, undid Blaine's belt. He unzipped Blaine's pants, and pushed them and his underwear down. Blaine felt the cooler air of the room on his skin, but that didn't pull him out of the trance he had fallen into.

Richard arranged Blaine face down across his lap. He folded the teen's arms under his head on the bed, and stroked his back gently.

Blaine jerked at the first blow, gasping at the shock of it. Richard held him still, one arm pressing down across his shoulders. The blows fell one after the other. It fucking hurt! Tears dropped off Blaine's face, but he wasn't aware of them. There wasn't anything except this pain.

And then it stopped. Richard helped Blaine sit up. He put his clothes back in order. He wiped Blaine's face with a warm wash cloth, and tied his bowtie carefully. "I think you'll feel better now." Richard put his arm around Blaine and walked him to the outer office door. "My bill will show up on your Visa under Serenity. Please, call me if you need anything else."

Alone in the elevator, Blaine shook his head in bewilderment. That hadn't actually happened, had it? But he knew it had, his ass was burning. Stepping out of the elevator into the lobby, Blaine realized that he did indeed feel better. A smile touched his lips, as he walked to his car. He'd try calling Kurt again, and again, and again.


End file.
